


Identity Crisis

by A_Big_Old_Skeleton



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Gals being pals, it is a little spicy at the beginning but then it's just FEELINGS, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-23 18:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14338890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton
Summary: Jane's always known who she was, except now she's not so sure. Better not think about it at all and just ignore those feelings, right? There's no way this will go wrong.





	1. Feelings are Terrible

There is a certain giddy haze that descends on Jane’s senses as she feels Daria’s teeth sink ever-so-slightly into her collarbone at the same time as Daria’s fingers curl inside her. For a brief second Jane lets out a drawn out “Oh _god_ , Daria!” as she feels a climax bearing down on her with all the grace and speed of a runaway train, This is followed quickly by a “Don’t stop!” which is then, of course, followed by a thump and a curse as Jane hits her head on the headboard hard enough to wake her up, shivering, gasping for breath, and (of course) unsatisfied. Oh, and _deeply_ confused. Let’s not forget that.

Jane rubs her head in pain as the dream begins to fade away, leaving her with nothing but the knowledge that she was clearly having a sex dream, and it clearly wasn’t with a man, which probably indicated that she owed Alison an apology. Or a slap in the face for waking up this _something_ that now confused the shit out of her, anyway. That fucking artist colony, Jane thought sourly to herself, was going to end up being the death of her sanity. She hadn’t slept well since she got back, and as someone who valued her sleep more than most this was an intolerable fucking situation that could not stand.

The problem was, who the fuck could she talk to about this? She and Daria were still… well, they weren’t _fighting_ , but the whole Tom situation had left them both nervous around one another. They’d reconciled, but Daria’s admission that she relied on Jane’s strong sense of identity had spooked Jane more than she wanted to admit. She’d put on a brave face for Daria, of course, assured her that of course, she was _Jane fucking Lane_ , but it wasn’t true at the time and it had continued, aggravatingly, to be untrue. Her best option, she decides, is ignoring it and putting on a brave face. Maybe even find a nice boy to kiss, see if that straightens things out (no pun intended, of course).

Of course it doesn’t straighten anything out, and seeing Daria with Tom - Tom, the cause of so much trouble and now Tom, the guy dating her friend who is so fragile sometimes, so vulnerable, so unaware of how bad things can get when feelings are involved - only makes it worse. Jane takes it all and pours it into her art, making twisted sculptures and brooding paintings that her mother is _very_ impressed by. Daria, when she stops by, tends to be more noncommittal about the paintings, but sometimes Jane swears she catches a look of concern in Daria’s eyes when she thinks Jane’s not looking.

Maybe that makes it inevitable that one day Jane cracks. She’s in art class, and the teacher says something about how impressive it is that Jane has created such a fascinating piece with such strong emotions in it, and Jane mumbles something about feeling sick and bolts from the room. She goes to the bathroom and locks herself in a stall and, for show, makes some retching noises which help to cover up the sob that escapes her. Her entire body is shaking, and she can feel the tears rolling down her face freely. She coughs, and feels altogether miserable, a feeling that turns to dread when she hears the bathroom door swing open and Daria’s familiar tread on the floor. The next part is more or less inevitable, even though Jane wishes like hell it weren’t.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

Jane somehow manages to bring herself under control and makes some coughing noises which aren’t entirely illegitimate. “I’ll live, but I think I’m going to go home. Puking takes all the fun out of the school day.”

The stall door rattles slightly as Daria tries to open it, then covers that she was trying to open it by leaning against it instead. There’s a sigh as she screws up her courage, before opening her mouth and saying quietly, “Jane, do you hate me now?”

There’s a moment where Jane struggles to speak, feeling the bottom drop out of her stomach. “Of course not! What brought on this sudden lack of confidence in our friendship?”

Daria’s tone is accusatory. “Normally you don’t lie to me.”

Jane starts to say “When did I lie?” before stopping herself. “It’s nothing, Daria. Artistic angst.”

“Artistic angst? Jane, I’ve been watching you fall apart for the last two months. That’s more than ‘artistic angst.’” There’s a pleading tone to Daria’s voice. “Come on, Jane. Is it something I did?”

Hearing the hurt in her friend’s voice is too much for Jane, and she opens the stall door, causing Daria to nearly fall. Daria gets a good look at her friend, then. Jane’s eyes are red-rimmed, and she looks so scared and miserable that Daria’s taken aback for a moment, before instinct takes over and she wraps her friend up in a hug. Jane clings to Daria like a lifeline for a few moments, before the fact that her friend is part of the thing that’s been confusing her rears its head and she has to step back.

“I promise it’s not your fault, Daria. I’ve just been…” Jane trails off, uncertain what to say next. ‘I think I’m bi?’ ‘I think I’m bi and in love with you?’ The options seem pretty bad. Jane settles for a vague “...trying to figure some things out.”

“Talk to me, then. Two heads are better than one, or so I’m told.”

There’s a long, long pause. “I… I can’t.” Jane finally says. “I’m sorry, Daria, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” There’s frustration in Daria’s voice that makes Jane wince inwardly. “If it’s not my fault, then why can’t you talk to me about it?”

Jane can’t argue this, but she also doesn’t feel ready for this conversation at all. Figuring honesty is probably the best policy, she relents, but only slightly. “I’m not ready to talk about it. It’s… complicated, and I don’t know how to talk about it, and I need time to think.” Then, because some reckless part of her (the _Jane fucking Lane_ part of her) can’t help but say it, she adds, “This weekend, okay? Give me until this weekend and I’ll be over this,” she indicates her mess of an appearance, “and ready to… say what I need to say.”

If Daria has any suspicion about what exactly Jane means, she doesn’t show it. Jane’s grateful for that, at least. “Okay,” she says, and steps aside. “But Jane? Promise me you’ll talk to me before doing anything stupid. And talk to _someone_ , if you can’t talk to me.”

Jane laughs, and feels a bit more like herself. “Anything stupid relating to my current state of mind, or just anything stupid in general?”

“At the risk of sounding too draconian, let’s say anything stupid in general for now.”

Jane gives Daria another hug and very much wants to kiss her in that moment, but the feeling is so quickly compounded by confusion and guilt for even _considering_ such a thing that she shudders slightly and pulls back. “You’re the boss, amiga. I think I’m gonna go home sick now.”

“Be my guest. No offense, but I think they’ll find it pretty easy to believe you’re sick. You look terrible.”

“Flatterer.”


	2. Car Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trent picks Jane up and isn't going to ask questions, but Jane has some answers to give anyway.

One phone call and twenty minutes later and Trent pulls up in the car which is, somehow, still running and a “Hey, Janey, not feeling well?” that manages to communicate that Trent knows damn well Jane’s not sick, doesn’t care, and is perfectly willing to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering her. Or not.

“Does having a breakdown and sobbing in a toilet count as an illness?”

Trent, bless him, gives the question some serious thought before replying. “Probably not. I think you deserve the rest of the day off anyway.”

They drive in silence for a moment, and Jane loves him for it. Trent stays silent, having said his piece for now. If Jane wants to talk, well, she’ll talk. Jane feels such a swell of gratitude at that moment that she nearly begins crying again. She takes a second to get herself under control before replying. “Yeah, I think I’ve earned it. I should’ve probably done it weeks ago.”

“Had a breakdown and sobbed in a toilet? I didn’t know you could do that on command.”

Jane laughs, a little, and wonders when the fuck she’d gotten so  _ fragile _ . “It’s part of the teen angst package.”

“Teen angst, huh. I thought you’d had your shots for that.”

“Well, the artist’s colony had a strain I wasn’t prepared for.”

Trent’s quiet again, then. When he speaks it is with an unusual amount of care, for him. “I thought you and Daria’d made up. Something else happen there?”

Jane feels so tired, in that moment. “You could say that.”

The car rolls to a stop, and Trent looks over at his sister with an actual look of concern. “Janey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… embarrassing. And confusing. And god, I can’t believe I’m about to say this to my  _ brother _ .”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I think I do want to. Maybe.” Jane took a deep breath. “There was this… girl. At the commune.”

Trent raises an eyebrow, but he gives no other sign of shock or surprise. He pauses and waits for Jane to continue. 

“She and I hung out. Like, a lot. Then she took me out to dinner.”

“Like on a date?”

“I didn’t realize it at the time, but yeah. Like a date. Except I didn’t know it was a date. Until she tried to kiss me.”

“I guess that would be a pretty good sign it was a date.”

“Anyway, I told her I wasn’t… you know, and she just said that sure, I  _ thought _ I wasn’t, but she was never wrong and I definitely was. I ended up leaving. We kind of reconciled afterwards, and she said she guessed she was wrong, but…”

“But you weren’t that sure, right?”

Jane sighs. “Yeah. I guess so. But then Daria and I talked and she mentioned how much she admired my being so sure of myself, so I sort of pretended I was okay. But now I’m pretty sure she was, you know...” There’s a long pause before Jane speaks again in a voice that’s barely a whisper. “Right.”

Trent is quiet for a while before he speaks again. “You know Janey, you and Daria are pretty close. I don’t think that’ll change if you talk to her about this. Daria’s cool.”

“Lucky for you, I sort of promised I’d talk to her about this over the weekend. But I don’t know what I’m going to say, because it’s… more complicated than just me being, you know...” Somehow Jane still can’t bring herself to say it out loud, and it makes no sense.

Trent understands, though. In fact, he surprises Jane a little by understanding exactly what she meant. “Oh. You’ve got a thing for Daria, huh?”

“So you see my dilemma.”

“No.”

Once again, Jane finds herself surprised. “What do you mean ‘no?’ I can’t lay that on my friend! She’s dating my ex, for gods’ sake!”

Trent gives her an inscrutable look from his vast collection of inscrutable looks. “Keeping it under wraps won’t make you feel any better. It’ll just make you miserable, and then she’ll be miserable because she’ll think it’s her fault.”

“But what if she hates me? What if she gets grossed out and never wants to see me again?”

“Nah, I think you’re underestimating how much Daria cares about you. She’s been worried about you. Even-” Trent catches himself. “Nevermind.”

“Even what?” In response, Trent stays quiet, so Jane tries again. “Trent, even what?”

“Sorry Janey, I promised her I’d keep quiet about it.”

“Wait, you’ve been talking to Daria?”

“She’s been over once or twice. You weren’t around. She didn’t want you to worry about her, so she asked me not to mention it.”

“Wait, you and her aren’t -”

“What? No. That would be weird.”

“Weird in a ‘I’m the other man in a relationship’ weird or weird in the ‘I’m dating my sister’s best friend’ weird?”

“Both.”

“So what, you had some secret conversations and now you’re an expert on how Daria would react to my telling her I’m in love with her?”

“No.” There’s a sly grin on Trent’s face. “Love, huh?”

There’s a rush of heat in Jane’s face, followed by the feeling that something in her chest has just unspooled and been set loose. Something in her mind clicks into place, and she smiles. “Yeah, I guess I just said that, huh?” The euphoria is short-lived, however, as she thinks about saying that to Daria and all the ways it could go wrong.

Trent watches as Jane seems to regain a bit of her old confidence, and then immediately lose it again. He puts a reassuring hand on Jane’s shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Janey.” Then, because really they don’t ever say it and maybe they should, he adds. “I’ve got your back.”

“I know you do. I just hope you don’t  _ need _ to. Not for this, at least. You should have my back for the important things, like fighting the cops.”

“That goes without saying. I’ll always be ready to fight the Man.”

Trent puts the car back in gear and the two drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait shit did I say two parts?
> 
> I dunno, I mean I guess Daria and Jane should probably hash things out, maybe.
> 
> Tell you what, you let me know if that would interest you and I'll go check my notes and see if there's maybe a third chapter to this somewhere, I just kind of got carried away having Trent and Jane chat.


	3. An Easy Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane prepares for Saturday. As expected, nothing goes quite the way she expected it to.

Jane spends the next day ‘home sick,’ although ‘consumed with anxiety’ is probably the more accurate description. She alternates between feeling supremely confident that everything will be fine and being convinced that she is basically committing suicide by telling Daria  _ anything _ about this, and Daria will end up hating her. Trent does not offer any help, or any more words of advice, but he finds excuses to look in on Jane (normally under the guise of looking for music, or asking about the weird red stain at the back of the refrigerator) enough to let Jane know he’s there if she needs support. 

The only thing that’s not anxiety-inducing is thinking about herself. For the first time in months, Jane knows who she is again - not just that, but so much seems to make more sense than it did before. Telling Trent seems to have been the last piece that needed to click into place, and while Jane is terrified at what talking to Daria might result in, she’s also feeling more like herself. She even sits down and paints something that doesn’t seem to be chock full of angst and self-loathing for a change. What it ends up being is maybe a bit heavy on the symbolism, but it’s bright and it’s colorful and it feels to Jane like she’s turned some kind of corner, maybe. 

Even with her newfound confidence, at least in who she is, Saturday still arrives too soon for her taste. Jane goes for a long run in an effort to clear her head. She takes a longer shower than usual, and then paces in her room like a cat, picking up the phone to call Daria, then putting it back down as her nerve fails, then making a few more circuits of the room, then picking it up again. It’s a blessing when the doorbell rings, breaking the cycle and putting Jane’s inclination to call the whole thing off blessedly out of reach. 

Not that she couldn’t just call it off now, of course, but hearing Daria’s heavy footfall in the hallway (Trent must have been awake enough to let her in, surprisingly) seems to steel Jane’s resolve. After all, isn’t she Jane Lane? Isn’t she supposed to be the confident one? The one who isn’t afraid of what people think? The one who is so sure of herself that her personality might as well be carved into stone?  _ Goddamn right I am _ , Jane thinks, and then Daria’s in the doorway to her room and Jane’s stomach drops right through the floor for a moment before she catches herself and gives a lazy wave.

“Hey, amiga. Glad I haven’t managed to completely ruin our friendship yet.”

Daria gives her a look that seems to communicate just how ridiculous the concept of Jane, of all people, ruining their friendship with a twitch of an eyebrow and a quirk of the mouth. “Of course. Ruining our friendship is my job.”

“Well I have to admit, Morgendorffer, you’re doing a bad job at it.” Jane ticks a few things off on her fingers theatrically. “Making sure I was alright when I ran out of class, accepting that I wasn’t going to tell you what was wrong right away, and now this? Showing up to check in on me and make sure I don’t chicken out on telling you what’s going on? Sorry, but that’s all prime friendship material.”

Daria leans against the doorway, folding her arms. She seems relieved to find the Jane Lane she knows hasn’t disappeared completely. “Should I be taking notes? I’ll try harder next time.”

“Stop leaning against the door and come on in, Daria. You’re gonna make me more nervous.” 

Dara raises an eyebrow at this, but doesn’t say anything. She walks in and takes up her usual position, perched on Jane’s bed like she belongs there (which, as far as Jane’s concerned, Daria  _ does _ ). “Out with it Lane, the suspense is killing me.”

Someone else would miss it, most likely, but Jane catches the undercurrent of sincerity in Daria’s comment and that strengthens her resolve a bit. “Look, I owe you a huge apology. I’ve been in bad shape and refusing to admit anything was wrong probably didn’t do anything to alleviate your worries, and I’m sorry about that.”

Daria opens her mouth to object, but Jane waves her off. “No, look, I’m serious. You’ve always been there to help me, and shutting you out because I was scared was… maybe not my best hour.”

This time Daria does get a word in edgewise. “What do you mean, you were scared?”

Jane sighs. “Okay, storytime. You came to see me at the commune, remember?”

“It wasn’t  _ that _ long ago.”

“Yeah, well, you said some stuff at the moment that kind of… No, wait, that makes it sound like it’s your fault and it isn’t.” Jane takes a deep breath and lets it out, running a hand through her hair as she does so. “Daria, I’m bi.”

The phrase hangs in the air for a while, and Jane watches Daria quietly process this information. Her eyes widen slightly and she speaks. “The conversation in your cabin. I said you were always Jane Lane, and always so sure of yourself, and how I envied that. Jane, I’m so-”

“Daria, I am forbidding you to apologize for having accidentally contributed to what was already an identity crisis. I didn’t exactly contradict you, and I sure as hell didn’t bother telling you I’d started questioning my own sexuality at the time. Anyway it was this girl Alison’s doing - she kind of came on to me, and I turned her down but I got to thinking, you know? And hearing you say how you admired me being so sure of myself, I mean, it  _ did _ help at the time. It’s what I wanted to hear, you know? But then a little while back I…” 

There’s a moment where Jane is really about to say ‘I had a sexy dream about a woman’ before deciding there’s a better way to put it. “I started thinking about it again. And realized that maybe Alison was right, and then realized she  _ was  _ right, and then I didn’t deal with that realization particularly well.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” Daria breaks in. “You’re my friend, and being into ladies isn’t a big deal to me. I’m not exactly great with the whole relationship thing but I certainly don’t think I’d be any better or worse off with a girl.”

“I know, I know.” Jane can’t help but file away Daria’s seeming nonchalance at mentioning that she herself has no gender preference in so many words for future questioning. “It’s just that I was scared of what it might mean, and you’ve got this whole thing with Tom and I didn’t want to like… lay that on you.”

Daria sighs at the mention of Tom. “Oh right, I didn’t tell you. Tom and I broke up two weeks ago. I didn’t want to worry you about it, so when you weren’t home I just kinda talked about it to Trent.”

“Oh god, I really  _ have _ been a shitty friend.” Jane plops down next to her friend and puts her head in her hands. “You should have said something. Heck, it might have been a nice distraction from my own nonsense.”

“In the grand scheme of things, getting fed up with your boyfriend’s self-absorption falls below figuring out your sexuality, I think. Besides, we kept fighting for dumb reasons and it just… felt kind of inevitable. In the end, I didn’t think it was worth trying to stay together, so we split up.” Daria shrugs. “Sorry you missed the chance to have me cry all over your shoulder, but honestly I mostly did that to my mom.”

“Still. I should’ve been there. We could have egged his house or something. Gotten nice and petty about it. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted, if you’re going to insist on feeling bad about it otherwise.” Daria quirks a smile again. “So, now that your deep dark secret is out, what do you want to do?”

The out is  _ right there _ . Jane could take it, and nobody would blame her for doing so. But Jane feels like she owes Daria this last bit of truth. “Well, that’s not quite it. I wasn’t right to keep all this stuff from you - it made me miserable, and it made you miserable, so I figure I might as well drop one last secret and then we’re all in the clear.”

“If you’re going to say something like Tom cheated on me with you, I’m going to hit you in the face. Fair warning.”

Jane laughs, and her hand goes through her hair again. “It’s nothing so salacious as that, I’m afraid. It’s just that…” She takes another deep breath, and laughs again. “Weird, it turns out this is harder to say than the other stuff. Who would’ve thought?”

Daria puts a hesitant hand on Jane’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. One secret won’t kill me.”

Another deep breath. “Okay so… okay. This is probably selfish of hell of me to say, given everything else, but… one of the reasons I was so worried about telling you any of this stuff was because I um…”  _ Fuck it _ , Jane thinks. “Look, I like you, Daria. Like…  _ like _ you. Like, the way I feel about you might have contributed to this little revelation I discussed earlier,  _ vis a vis _ me being into girls. And before you say anything, no, it’s not the end of the world that you don’t feel the same. I just… I know it might make things weird but I had to at least say it out loud in front of you the once, and we don’t have to talk about it and you don’t have to do anything and it would’ve been weirder if you were dating Tom still but maybe it’s weirder now that you aren’t because it looks like I’m trying to move in on you now that you’re single or something but-”

Daria gives Jane a very long look and before placing a hand over Jane’s mouth. “Jane.”

“Mmph?”

“You were babbling. Also, what I said before? About my not being any better or worse off with a girl? That still applies.” 

Daria removes her hand, and Jane is left free to speak but isn’t entirely sure what to say. Eventually she manages a strangled. “So what are you saying, exactly?”

“I’m saying it’s okay.” Daria smiles reassuringly and Jane feels like her heart is about to explode. “Look, I’m not… I’m not good with feelings, and I’m definitely not blameless in why Tom and I split, but… you’re my best friend, and maybe if we tried… it wouldn’t all go down in flames.” Her grin goes crooked.  “So okay. I can’t promise anything, but… we can try dating, if you want.”

Jane feels like she’s won  _ several _ lotteries. She looks with wonder upon Daria’s face - Daria, who seems so shockingly  _ okay with this _ . There is a hint of worry there, though, that Jane can’t ignore. “You know you don’t have to do this if you aren’t comfortable. We’re friends regardless.”

“Maybe I wasn’t being clear.” Daria says. “I would like to try dating you, Jane. In fact, I might say that I can’t think of anyone I would rather date than you.” 

Jane considers this. “In that case, let’s get a pizza.” She leans in quickly, boldly, and gives Daria a quick peck on the lips before adding, “Girlfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having Daria be supremely blase about her own sexuality seemed kind of right to me.
> 
> Her and Tom splitting is the most deus ex machina bullshit thing I've ever done. I admit this freely - if you need to, just pretend the story actually ended with the second chapter.


End file.
